In More Ways Than One
by WindowChild
Summary: Lily Evans was a mistake - a product of her father's affair with a goddess. Her mere existence causes a collision of the three worlds: Muggle, Half Blood, and Wizarding. Including Lily's childhood, the Marauders, DH/tLO and the next generation. AU.
1. The Beginning of History I

A/N: The one allowance that I'll need you to make for this story, is to imagine that Percy and Harry are exactly two years apart. So in other words, tLO would be taking place two years after the final battle. However, that won't be relevant for several chapters, since this takes place a long time before either are born. Also, be aware, this story is going to take place over three "generations". The first few chapters are going to be centered on the Evans family (Lily and Petunia's parents), the second on Lily as a teenager at Hogwarts (expect LilyJames and LilySeverus), and the third will take place during Harry and Percy's generation. As far as I can tell (although I won't know for sure until I get there), more or less every character will be included. Oh, and I made up the names (and characteristics) of the Evans parents. If they have real names, that I've forgotten, I would appreciate it if you'd remind me. Thanks for reading!

Marius Evans stood by his wife's side, patiently waiting for their daughter to fall asleep.

"Oh Petunia," he whispered, stroking the little one's hair, "Nothing bad's going to happen, I promise." She'd had a long week of nightmares, and neither he nor his wife had been getting much sleep.

"What are you afraid of, Darling?" Christine asked, kneeling by the bedside. Five-year-old Petunia was crying, her thumb stuck between her quivering lips.

"Mummy," she wailed, her little fists beating against her pillow. "I don't want Daddy to go out."

Marius sighed. He had made plans to have dinner with a man from work. It could mean a promotion for him, if they made friends. "I promise I'll be home soon," he said. Promises, promises. It was a word he used a lot.

"But what if something happens?" she hiccupped, her eyes wide. She was bright for her age, her imagination uncontrollable.

"Nothing's going to happen love, you'll see," he said. He gave her a smile, turning back to his wife. Soundlessly, he pointed to his watch.

"You go," she whispered to him. "I'll make sure she falls asleep."

"Thank you," he said softly, kissing her on the lips. They stood there a moment longer, both glancing down at her stomach. "Do you think it worked?" he asked, unable to help himself. They wanted a sibling for Petunia so badly.

"I don't know," she replied, hugging herself. "I hope so." He gave her another kiss and a swift embrace, leaving the room before Petunia could see him go. She was calm now, and it would drive her to hysterics if she saw her father leaving. He sighed. Things had been tense lately, and yet he had no idea what they were doing wrong. Another child might help, he reasoned. A little sister or brother would do the trick.

He arrived at the restaurant an hour later than he had planned, which was certainly not good. Walter – the man from work – was an impatient fellow, and would not be impressed with tardiness. And… after a survey of the room, it became apparent that he was no longer there. Marius cursed under his breath, ears aflame. He had left his crying daughter in order to stand up his boss. This wouldn't be good, for either his home or his work.

Heaving a sigh, her removed his checkered scarf and took a seat at the bar. There was no reason he couldn't have a few drinks, while he was out. Once Christine got pregnant, they wouldn't have alcohol in the house. This was only practical.

A wave to the bartender and he ordered, deciding to request appetizers as well. It was another night, he thought dismally. He lived an average life, with an average family and an average job. He truly did adore Christine and Petunia, but sometimes it felt as if something else were approaching. A promotion, he thought dryly. Or a baby. After all, what else could it be?

Three drinks later, and he stumbled up from the stool. Time to go home. And begin making amends with work, he added. He would have to do that in the morning.

"Oh, I'm sorry." The woman's voice was cool. Sincere, but without an inflection of emotion to it.

He glanced up, meeting her eyes. They were gray and bright, lively and secretive. He smiled abashedly at her, and she returned the gesture.

"Did I… er, did I bump into you there?" he asked.

"No," she replied, as calmly as before. "It was my fault." She was not from Britain, Marius noted, hearing her lack of an accent. And, for her all of her genuine appearance, he had the distinct impression that she was lying.

"No, I'm sorry," he said, noticing her attractive appearance for the first time. "I should watch where I'm going."

It was at this that the woman smiled, extending her hand to him. "You look like you've had a bit much tonight. Can I help you outside?" She was very pretty, Marius observed. He'd already picked up on it, but it was distinctive enough to deserve a reminder. Her blonde hair looked almost like water, or silk. At least, it was not like the hair of any person _he'd_ ever seen before. It was for this shallow reason, perhaps, that he accepted. Blindly, he took her hand, allowing her to pull him out into the air.

"Sorry," he repeated numbly, rubbing at his temples. "It's been a long evening."

"That's alright," she replied kindly. She paused a moment, time seeming to stretch in her silence. Their eyes met. "What's your name?"

"Marius," he replied, removing his hat to reveal a shock of red hair. "What's yours?"

"Athena," she replied, waiting patiently to gage his reaction.

"Like the goddess," he remarked, nearly at once.

So he was not as ignorant as some, she thought. However, he was still a mortal. They were helplessly oblivious, when unable to see through mist. She smiled a long and honest smile, practically Apollo-esque in her prophetic vision. It had been a while since a god or goddess had fallen for a mortal _without_ the talent of clear vision. Should she be the first to rejuvenate the tradition?

"Yes, like the goddess," she replied softly. "Here, let me help you home." Her pale eyes met his dark and deep ones, and even the goddess felt the electricity in it. They were a cliché already, something about magnetic opposites. And yet they held hands, walking through the privacy of darkness together. Little did they know they were setting history that night, for more generations than one.

A/N: That's it for now! I hope you can see where this is going, because if you can't that means I've done a pretty poor job. Anyway, please review, I hope you liked it!


	2. The Beginning of History II

That night was the first of many, as it turned out. Athena left Marius outside his house, preaching that he ought to return to his wife and daughter. When Marius did not protest, she smiled all the wider. He had principles, then. It had been a while since a god or goddess had dated anyone with _those_, either.

"Goodbye," she said, her lips inches from his. "I'll see you soon."

"You will?" Marius asked. She was already gone though, and he stumbled miserably into the house.

He relayed an altered tale to his Christine, speaking of how he'd missed Walter and had been too ashamed to come home. She kissed his neck, always sympathetic.

"Tuny's asleep," she whispered, smiling in the direction of the staircase. "Would – would you like to go and… try?"

He looked up at his wife, whose face was shone with hope and happiness. She found joy in this day-to-day life, it seemed. "Not tonight, my love," he whispered hoarsely. "I'm too tired." Noticing her fallen expression, he pulled her onto his lap. "Tomorrow, maybe," he said. But there was no way to deny it. There was something about the extraordinary nature of the woman he'd just encountered; it had ruined this for him. And while he hated her for it, whoever she may have been, he also couldn't help but dream.

"Of course," Christine replied. She looked disappointed for a moment longer, and then recovered with grace. "Of course, Darling." And she kissed him again.

They remained in the armchair for a while, neither speaking. Marius kept his arms around his wife's waist, wondering whether she knew his thoughts. They were not forbidden, not yet, but they were headed down that unglamorous path. He was dangerously susceptible to adventure, and to depth. But it was all in a shallow way, you see. That's what made it unforgivable, and wretchedly ironic.

Days passed. Petunia continued to live a life of panic, her nights and days filled with visions of monsters and hooded figures.

"Daddy!" she would scream, until her father picked her up off of the floor. "Daddy, they're coming for me from everywhere," she sobbed, clutching his shirt with surprising force.

"Who's coming?" Marius asked.

"The monsters," she whispered, clinging to him. He kissed her forehead, telling her that there were no such things. Secretly, he thought there were, but not the ones that she meant.

It was on the third week – since his night at the restaurant, that is – that he saw her again. She found him, it seemed, perched on a bench outside the coffee shop.

"Oh hello…" he said, awkwardly standing, "Hello… Athena."

"Marius," she replied, her silky voice inflated with a pretend warmth. She was using all she knew of familiarity, trying her best to charm him.

She sat by his side, talking to him at a slow and graceful pace. It was nearly magical. You see, they really did form a relationship that day. Her words did it, entrancing him before he could stop them. She spoke with eloquence, and yet… not exactly. She did not seem to be a scholar, or anyone of fame, but there was something spectacular about the way she carried herself. When he was around her, he felt the need to exalt the way she left him with wonder.

Her posture, Marius decided blandly, feeling a need to put a pin in his wonderings. She sat so tall, taller than anyone he had ever met. And that day, by the coffee shop, they began to talk for real.

This day was followed by many others, until Marius was forced to lie to Christine about a promotion. He was working late, he said, when really he was sitting on the bench, praying Athena would join him there. Days turned into weeks, and weeks to months. He saw more of her than of his own family, and not an hour went by that he did not miss her.

Their relationship was nearly indescribable. You see, neither ever encroached the boundaries of the unspeakable. Other than Marius's private fantasies, they never broached the realm of romance. He was married, and Athena respected this with class and care. She asked about his wife and child, sounding particularly worried by Petunia's nightmares.

"Oh no," she breathed, glancing upwards. Then, catching herself, "The poor thing."

"We've done everything we can," he replied. "But it's been nearly a year. She's always so afraid."

"I'm sorry," Athena responded. She meant it too, although he would never know how much.

Besides their conversations, filled with intellect and inspiration, there were the moments of silence. It would have been cliché for Marius to say aloud, but he honestly felt that they were the best moments of all. They connected then, and although he did not know all of her secrets, he felt that those moments were the closest he came to understanding.

"I won't see you much longer," Athena replied. There were tears in her eyes, Marius noticed with a start. "My family and I are leaving. Well, they live in America you see, and I'm joining them for good now."

"For good?"

She gave a little smile. "For your lifetime, at least. They've been very angry with me, for waiting behind here."

"You have a family?" Marius asked her, unable to resist. He knew so little about her background.

"Brothers and sisters," she replied, "And my parents."

"Oh." He hated himself for the rush of joy that came with this answer. She was not married.

"But Marius," she whispered, stepping close to him. It was the closest she'd been to him since that first night, with their lips almost touching. "I want you always to remember me. And I'll always remember you." She touched him then, her lips meeting his for the first time.

Marius could only beam after, the sensation so miraculous that he could hardly stand. Then, with a jolt, he realized that she had gone.

It was the next month that the surprise came. A baby, sitting on his doorstep in a basket. A mistake, he thought at first, until he noticed the green eyes and the red hair. His? Panic filled him, followed by confusion and exhilaration. What to do, what was to happen next? And of course, there was no way to know that history would repeat itself. In two worlds, both different from his own.

A/N: Thanks so much for reading! Please review!


	3. The Letter

A/N: I know it's been forever. Feel lucky, though: I'm updating this before any of my other chapter stories. Happy reading! Sorry to leave such a long wait.

Marius bent, ambiguous pains shooting down his spine. From stress? His chest seemed to be clawing at itself, long tendrils of fire grabbing at his lungs. He picked up the baby, sighing with strange relief when it smiled and shut its eyes.

Again, he ran through the roster of features. Red hair, green eyes… It was his child, one way or another. A moment of logically impaired panic, he wondered if he and Christine had somehow had a child, unbeknownst to him.

Another glance, however, and it was clear this child did not come from his wife. Christine, lovely as she was, had an air of oblivious innocence. Thechild, with that enigmatic glint to her eye, was anything but oblivious. She was merely a baby, and still Marius felt as if she was somehow spying on him.

"What is your name?" he asked kindly, chuckling to himself. If there was any baby capable of speech, it would be this one. She giggled, eyelids opening, tiny hands reaching for him. Marius sank to his front stoop, settling her on his lap so he could grasp her fingers.

"Who is your mommy?" he asked, the very ends of his nerves curling around his voice. "Are you…?" There was only one woman, besides Christine, whom he'd ever spent significant time with. And they'd never… there was no way they could have had a child together… was there?

He sighed, thinking so deeply that his skull ached. Did she resemble Athena, this child? Furthermore, could this possibly be her daughter? Even if one ignored the technicalities of impregnating someone, there was the timeline to consider. He and Athena had hardly known each other for nine months, if that. And she had never looked the slightest bit pregnant. Besides, if you decided they had somehow conceived, and it had been nine months ago, there was the baby to consider. She was no infant.

Marius stared blankly into space, processing it all over. Athena was in New York, so she said. How and why would she have sent him a baby? If it was their baby. If she had been the one who sent it.

He nearly yelped in pain, every wire in his brain alive with electricity. The baby continued to make baby, gurgling noises. Marius directed his attention back to her. "You… Oh!" Something had caught his attention. Beside her blue-frocked dress, pressed against the golden basket's rim, was an envelope. Carefully, trembling, Marius removed it.

Taking forced breath after forced breath, her read the contents.

_Marius,_

_I am so sorry to have troubled you with this. I understand that you did not expect it, for I did not expect it myself. It is rare that I take to a mortal so strongly._

_Whatever you may think, you will be a better parent to our daughter than I ever could be. Do not worry about your wife and older daughter, a man will be a long in a few hours to make them forget. They will believe this child is their relation._

_Please, never tell them the truth. Never tell our daughter the truth. And most of all, do not go looking for answers. This arrangement is the only way for the four of you to remain safe, I'm sure. Your older daughter's dreams were not so far off the mark._

_Please accept my apology._

_Athena._

There was no 'love' before her name, no trace that he was anything but a memory to her. And God… she told him not to look for answers, and then threw in a line like that last one: '_Your older daughter's dreams were not so far off the mark.' _What did that mean? Where monsters heading their way, then?

He tried very hard to calm himself, unintentionally shredding the paper as he tried to channel his emotions more thoughtfully. What did she mean, about a man coming? Coming to make them forget… It made him sick, for an instant, before taking away all of the relief. He didn't know what she meant, or how it would be done (he panicked quickly that it might hurt them), but things would certainly be better if they believed she was their relation.

Fleetingly, he glanced to the house. They were gone at Christine's parents, for a few hours at least. They wouldn't be back until noon or so…

Fear thoroughly incapacitating his limbs, he leaned against the front door and shut his eyes. Even for a reasonably intelligent man, this was too much information. Marius could not begin to comprehend the obvious answer, due to its equally obvious flaws. It denied basic laws of biology, and yet… it was the only plausible situation. Especially once you considered the letter.

"Are you my daughter?" Marius asked the child desperately. She gazed up at him with unending trust, and a near impertinence to her little lips. "Well, why don't we go inside?" he asked her, quietly. "Mummy's out," he explained quickly. Mummy. That would be Christine, then, if he followed Athena's instructions. Did she really want their alleged daughter to be raised by another woman? He couldn't imagine it of any normal human being.

His exceptional skills of observation kicked in a little late, and he remembered a distinct line in the letter. 'Mortal'… As if she wasn't one.

"Are you hungry?" Marius asked. The baby was surprisingly easy to care for, unlike Petunia who had been fussy as a baby. She was still fussy, he thought wryly.

The baby did not respond, and Marius took the silence as an affirmative. He heated up a mug of milk, and fed it to her through one of Petunia's old bottles. Then, as he was rocking her on his knee, he heard the front door creak open.

"Hello," Christine said merrily, an arm around Petunia. She started, spotting the baby. "Oh. Who is this?"

"Neighbor's daughter," Marius replied instantly, hoping she wouldn't notice the flush in his cheeks. "They asked us to watch her for the day. …I hope that's alright."

"Of course," Christine replied slowly, looking only a little confused. "I didn't realize the Porters had a child."

"Not the Porters," Marius corrected, seeing as they were in their sixties at least. "The er, Figgs." They had a daughter, a little older than Petunia, and it was not entirely unreasonable to lie that they had another.

"Oh," Christine said, her not sounding suspicious at all. "Well, that's fine then." Petunia looked less certain, and hung by the door. "What's her name?"

"Oh…" Marius said, his head reeling. "Lily."

"A flower name?" Petunia asked. "Like me?"

Her father nodded, then remembering himself, held out his arms to her. "How are you darling?"

She hugged him, but remained cautious. "I'm alright…"

"How were Gran and Grandpa?"

"Fine."

Christine smiled glowingly. "They missed you, Marius."

He nodded, trying to look apologetic. "I'll be sure to come next time."

Presently, a knock interrupted them. Marius felt his insides jump; there was no one it would be, unless…

"Wonder who that might be," Christine echoed his thoughts, her light footsteps travelling over to the door. "Oh, hello," she said. Unconsciously, it seemed, she wrinkled her nose at the sight of the man before her.

He was elderly. He wore a long, snow-white beard, and a pair of crescent eyeglasses. His clothing was… odd, to say the least. "Hello," he said, pleasantly, ignoring Christine's shocked expression. "May I please speak to Marius Evans?"

A/N: I just have to leave it there, I'm afraid : ). Oh well, I hope you can forgive me for the cliffhanger, and… please review!


	4. Albus Dumbledore

A/N: I'm so sorry about the long wait between updates! Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed last chapter!

"I'm - I'm Marius," Marius said, stepping forward. "Marius Evans. May I help you?" His head tipped wildly, thoughts scattering like papers in the wind. He immediately connected the man to the letter from Athena. Hadn't she said someone would come to - to...

"Ah. Excellent. I'm Albus Dumbledore. You haven't met me before, but I know a lot about you." He paused a moment, his eyes startling and sparkling. "Marius, would you take a walk with me?" Christine's silky fingertips brushed his arm, telling him no. Cautioning him.

"Alright," he replied slowly, nodding. Attempting to smile reassuringly for his wife, he stepped out to join this Dumbledore man on the porch. "We'll be back in a minute, Christine. Perhaps we can give our guest some lemonade?"

She flinched momentarily, shocked, before nodding. "Of course." Dumbledore looked positively delighted at their hospitality.

"Excellent, excellent," he murmured, smiling warmly towards the younger man. Marius gave a rueful smile in return, trying to evade the dread brewing inside him. "Marius, how about we head out behind the house?"

"Why not," Marius replied easily, trying not to feel offended about being shown around his own house.

"Ah, Marius," Dumbledore said. "I hear you had the pleasure of making Athena's acquaintance. Wonderful woman, isn't she?"

"Yes, wonderful..." Suddenly wrapped in thoughts of Athena, reeling pictures of her beautiful face, he nearly missed Dumbledore's next question.

"And you read her letter."

"I - I did."

"And you've met your daughter?" Dumbledore's voice inclined cheerfully. "Congratulations are in order, I suppose."

Marius's throat shrunk painfully, twisting around and around until he could barely speak. "Thank you," he choked. "Yes, I've met my... daughter." His daughter. Imagine. He couldn't possibly comprehend having a daughter besides Petunia, even though he and Christina had been trying. Questions buzzed at his lips, concerns. Smart a man as he was, he didn't understand. "Are you... like... her?"

"Like her? Ah, my dear man, no one is quite like Athena. There are a few, but I've only had the joy of meeting her. Your daughter will be only partially like her. And while she could emphasize that part of her heritage, Athena has contacted me and said she would prefer to emphasize a different trait. One from your bloodline."

"From my bloodline? What - what does that mean?" His head pounded unsubtly, burning the insides of his brain.

"Marius, how much do you know about your grandmother?"

"I - I never met her... she died long before I was born."

"Yes, but do you know anything about her?"

"No, no, my parents didn't talk about her much."

Dumbledore's face lit up, corners infusing with a yellow tinge. "That's because she was a witch. It skipped several generations, you and your father, but it will reappear again in your daughter. Athena's relatives have... ways of telling the future." He smiled, hands clasped behind his back. "Of course, so do we, but they're a bit less accurate..."

Spluttering over the impossibilities, Marius ignored his disbelief for a different question. "Athena was a... witch?"

"Not precisely. In fact, I'm afraid I can't tell you much more about her. She communicates peacefully with our world though, and is the only of her kind to do so. The others look down on us. She finds us intelligent, and respects us with more information than she gives many. But... enough about that. I can tell you anything you'd like to know about your world. So... any questions?" Two rows of tiny teeth emerged between his chapped lips, and Marius was taken aback.

"I -" His mouth froze in a broken circle, uncertain. "She's really my daughter?"

"Yes. You should feel proud, perhaps, if you'd like. Athena values you, and the daughter she had with you, enough not to drag the pair of you into her world." He smiled again, this one humorous. "Though it may not appear such, once you learn more, my world - our world - is actually the safer of the two."

"I - I feel a bit faint," Marius confessed, after he'd let a handful of seconds pass.

"That's completely natural," Dumbledore assured. "Would you like a lemon drop?"

"Would I - would I what?"

"A lemon drop." He pulled a pouch from the inside of his ensemble, which appeared to be a sort of robe, and opened it for Marius. "Would you like one? I find they're good for headaches and feeling faint."

"Thank you," Marius muttered. He let the world slide out from under his feet, too tired and too dizzy to focus on the strangeness of it all.

"Now, I'm afraid I must go and take care of your wife and daughter."

"Take care of?" Instantly Marius's temper flared, distrust swarming inside him. "You can't touch them, I won't let you!

"Marius, I won't hurt them. I promise you. But if you wish for them to think that the child is theirs, you must let me perform a simple memory charm. It won't hurt them, merely make them believe that your wife -"

"Christine," Marius hissed. Quite suddenly, he did not like this man. With his puff of white beard and hair, glimmering blue dress... he seemed unreal. Evil. A trickster. Who had a name like Dumbledore, anyway?

"Christine," he corrected himself, nodding. He seemed to notice Marius's expression then, and he took a step back. "Marius, please understand me. If I don't perform this charm, things can only become worse. If I do, your wife will believe that she had this daughter months ago, and she is three months old. Whether you like it or not Marius, she will receive a letter to our school when she turns eleven. That will bring her into our world whether you like it or not."

"But... I still don't understand. Any of it. The different worlds... yours - hers. It makes no sense."

"There will be many years to understand," Dumbledore said, peering kindly over his glasses. "You will understand most of it, a piece of it, in due time. I promise you that."

Marius stiffened, but his insides calmed inexplicably. He could not consider it without anguish, and so he tried not to consider it at all.

"Would you like to watch me perform the charm, to reassure yourself, or would you rather stay here?"

Ashamed, yet utterly unable to accompany the alleged wizard, Marius let his head hang. "I'll stay here..."

"As you wish." Eyes still twinkling, Dumbledore left him with a smile. Marius pressed his back against the window, vision qcaught on the grass tendrils beneath his feet. Worlds or no worlds, he thought he heard a baby's giggle in the distance. His baby. His and Athena's, whoever she might be.

A/N: I hope you liked it! This is the end of Marius and Christine, just so you know. From here on, the story is going to flit back and forth between Lily's childhood and the gods on Olympus. Reviews would be much appreciated! :D


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